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   Home      Rash of Good Behavior


In the enclave of Paradise Beach Resort off the serene beach of Calangute, GOA, lies the quaint and humble Sequeria Villa.


Armed with conversation of his trials to obtain a sale deed and bout with colon cancer.  Mr. Renee is a man of distinct character.  Judging by the longing on his face, one can assume that he is starved for interaction.

Also residing in the flat amidst the clutter of discarded novelties sent from their emancipated son and tourists that have made their acquaintance are his wife and surrogate, Wilma and Mary.


 As Renee pulls a chair forward and sets on his quest to hold ones attention, Wilma and Mary disappear into the foray of the kitchen.  Their unrelenting clatter consumes the inlet increasing in volume as if a snake sending warnings to an unwelcome prey.


Contradictory to other Indian households, the welcome mat is ushered into the kitchen to continue its ugly discharge.  The tea and biscuits are relegated to storage as if a precious commodity on the brink of extinction.  Only to be filed out on display for those willing to flash their foreign currency while disowning their true origin.


“I am Swedish”, exclaimed the dark shirtless shadow that loomed over the doorway.  A neighbor had come to pay his respects and offer his laundry.  Mary accepts the discarded cloth with a wink and a smile.

Shortly thereafter a mug appears from the kitchen and carriedas if an offering for the king. 

A chair is pulled for this king and the worship begins when suddenly, a distant crackle and thud

is heard in the distance. 


Wilma and her cohort become a blur
as they swiftly move towards the veranda
to survey the property. 

A coconut had fallen from a nearby palm and the two set about the village lawn in search of nature’s prize.  The chase is quite comical and reminds one of the cult film; The Gods Must Be Crazy, in which a bottle of Coca-Cola falls from the sky turning a small African village topsy-turvy.


When inquired about the fuss, Mary guided us into the bedroom lifting the bed sheet that draped its underside.  Amidst the skeletal frame of the bed sat an arsenal of coconuts numbering anywhere from 175-200.  There they sat huddled in the shadow of the cumbersome bed like gold nuggets fresh from mining.


Mary’s attention was quickly averted as the king beckoned for his toast.  The feast began as Mr. Sequeria continued his conversation once more from the beginning.  The two remaining occupants shuffled into the kitchen.


Shuttered by what we had witnessed and attune to the lack of interest in our presence led to our adieu.


Later in the early portion of the evening, a rustle commenced in the bushes that outlined the neighboring villa.  Two shadows hustled into the night as the man of the house dictated direction from the dim staircase lending to the palatial veranda.


Discussing the nuances of GOA and our proximity to Calangute over tea with a local the following afternoon led to a puzzled expression on the face of the host.  A patron of the house translated the location in his native tongue leading to an uproar of laughter and deeper understanding.  When asked what he had said, the patron expressed embarrassment.  After further coaxing, the patron subsided.  “Coconut Thieves” he replied.  “Ah yes, Coconut Thieves, no I know exactly where you live”.  The house began to burst with exuberance over the impression the Sequerias not only made upon us but other locals within the village. 

Coconuts yielded per season:
20-25 liters of oil per 200 gross
75 - 85 rupees per liter value

2125 rupees in savings per year

The buck does not stop here mind you.  The Sequerias have extended their collection to now include newspapers and liquor bottles.


Perhaps they should be commended for their ability to recycle.  In the case of coconuts however, is it their right to deprive the other owners of their rights to the property and its produce?


If you happen to stumble upon this resort in your travels, be warned.  These eccentrics whom at first seem friendly and helpful will accost you.  Slowly over time this friendship will build to an irritation followed by a rash threatening to spoil your vacation.